Platonically Kills You
by FrostedDragonHeart
Summary: Just a little Destiel one-shot where Dean has a few drinks and admits some feelings about a certain angel. Thanks for reading! T cause paranoia and angst.


**A/N**

 **Just a little one-shot. Little angst!**

 **Also, if you like this, on Tumblr, I do a collaboration blog with a fellow Tumblr-er known as geminalupus under the name reddemonblondeangel where we post little things like this for many fandoms. Come find us there!**

 **Thanks for reading!**

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 **Platonically Kills You**

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Dean was feeling good that night. No. He was feeling great. For one fleeting moment, in all these years of suffering. All these years of pain. All these years of hurt, Dean was feeling great. He didn't have many moments like these.

The hunting trips in the last few weeks had been minor cases. Cases that he could handle. Cases that didn't shatter him completely. Cases that were more like the early days. The days when he didn't feel so trapped in this life. When he…when he could've gotten away. When he chose to stay. When demon possession were new and rare. When ghouls didn't seem to be around every corner. When the Hunters life was more livable.

These last few weeks had been that. Livable. People were saved, monsters were destroyed, and Dean was able to keep moving. These last few weeks had given him hope again. Well…not much hope, but enough to keep moving. Enough hope to not flinch at every shadow that appeared in the corner of his eyes. Enough hope to think…pray…believe that…that maybe this world could be turned around. That things could get better.

He knew that this was fleeting. This hope. He knew that he could easily wake up the next day and that hole that had become so dark and so encompassing could crush this fragile feeling. Hope, to him, was just that. Fragile. Fleeting. Something easy to smother. Something that, inevitably, would be snuffed out.

Hope was something to cherish, however dangerous that was. Hope was a flame Dean rarely lit. But these last few weeks had given him the courage to fan the small flame that glowed faintly in that all-encompassing dark within his chest. He would let it glow…if only for one fleeting night.

So yes, Dean had few drinks. Well…maybe "few" was too small of a word. He had actually had many drinks. Enough drinks too further fuel his great mood. Enough drinks to socialize with other bar goers, dance, and joke. Enough drinks to have fun. Enough drinks to enjoy himself. Enough drinks to re-direct his thoughts from the encompassing dark. Just enough drinks…to loosen his tongue.

Castiel. Cas…

Cas had been his DD. Well, the angel wouldn't actually be driving, he would just "zap" them out of the bar and back to the motel room. Cas had come with him to the bar. Dean had insisted he would be fine on his own, but the angel had brought up the fact that he would be driving impaired, and the night could go so much better without Dean getting into an accident that landed him in the hospital. Of course, Cas could do another type of zappy-thing that would heal him from any harm, but he was in a great mood. He saw no reason to argue and leave Cas behind if he was willing to come.

Cas…

He couldn't help it. He wasn't completely intoxicated. Dean was…a drunk, basically. He knew it. Whiskey was the creamer he used occasionally to dilute his black coffee in the mornings he felt especially...well, in the mornings he wasn't feeling like he did now. The point is, Dean could hold his alcohol. Yes, he'd had a lot of drinks, but not enough to slur his thoughts. Not enough to muddle his brain. Not enough to let his tongue slip anything he didn't want it to. Just enough to loosen his tongue. Just enough to put him more at ease.

Dean looked over at Cas. He had finished his last dance minutes ago, and his energy was slipping. At the moment, Dean just felt content. And he couldn't stop staring.

It's true that alcohol could trick the eyes. You know, turn two's into ten's. But in this moment, he knew it wasn't the alcohol. He knew he was just content. He knew the alcohol had just clouded his mind enough to let him dwell on the truths he tried to keep hidden from himself. Dean knew all those drinks had just shushed that voice that told him to quite his desires. To deny what he wanted. To deny the undoubtable truth that he wanted Cas.

And so Dean found himself staring.

Cas had always been a ten to him. He couldn't deny that the body he chose to occupy was beautiful. The body that was his. That he had come back to him in the form of countless times was not really Castiel. His body may not, in any way, reflect his true celestial form, but it was Cas.

In this moment, however, Dean felt as if he were glimpsing that angelic form that mortal eyes couldn't live tell the tale of. The form that was powerful and beyond description, because in this moment, Dean was not denying his attraction to Cas. He was not denying his feelings, and because he was letting himself be honest, and letting himself openly stare at the angel before him, he saw a glimpse of the heavenly beauty. It was as if he were glowing. As if he were radiating a power Dean had only seen in the heart of their battles with the evil that hid in the shadows. A power he couldn't resist. A power, he knew, he could always see in his sober state, but that his stubborn, inner voice had constantly denied to acknowledge. Cas was always like this. He always registered him as a ten in his soberness…but with that voice shushed, Dean realized Cas had always been so much more.

At the moment, Cas was staring anywhere but at him. Maybe it was because Dean had a stupid grin plastered across his face rather than his usual grim expression. It had to be the face Dean was making, right? Because it couldn't be the staring, and if it was, he found it quite hypocritical. Cas was known for openly staring because he hardly had a sense of personal boundaries and socially acceptable behavior. Of course, he had gotten better about these things over the years, but still…hypocritical.

"Are you ready to go Dean?"

Cas didn't turn his head when he asked, and Dean was quite thankful for that. He had already spoken unexpectedly, and Dean's insides had gone cold at the sound of his voice. Cold, and breathless, as the deep hum of his rough voice raised his pulse. He would've been struck dead if Cas had flickered his unfairly beautiful crystal blue eyes to his emerald ones.

"Yeah." He managed through his beating heart. "Yeah, let's go."

Without his direct approval, Dean leaned a bit closer to Cas across the small table separating them. He held eye contact as if this would be the last time Dean would see those stunning eyes. He held eye contact, memorizing every fleck that lingered in those glassy blue orbs, up until the moment he involuntarily blinked when two of Cas' fingers tapped the center of his forehead.

He felt a small pull in his stomach. That same feeling one may experience when they fall in a dream, and jolt awake just before hitting an unforgivable ground. He heard a…a sound. One quick sound. He always heard this sound when he and Cas traveled this way, but it was odd, brief and so unusual that he had never been able to place it. It sounded as if the atmosphere were being disturbed. As if something large forced its way through the still air. Something he couldn't place, but something that felt natural.

When he opened his eyes, Dean was sitting on his bed in the two star motel room they had rented for the night. Cas was sitting on the other bed, facing him as he had been at the bar.

Dean tore his eyes away from the angel for a moment to survey the room. Sam was nowhere in sight.

Quickly, Dean pulled out his phone and saw a message from Sam that he hadn't been able to hear over the live music at the bar.

The text read: _Got bored/hungry. Went out. Will bring pie._

Dean smiled. "Sam's going to bring pie." He said aloud.

Cas looked at him, confusion shining in his eyes. "Of course. He thinks of you when he makes these runs."

"Yeah." Dean said, placing his phone back in his pocket. "I'm awesome."

Cas only narrowed his eyes.

They lapsed into silence. On a normal night, this would make Dean feel awkward. He wouldn't be able to handle the silence because it only gave that stubborn voice prime opportunity to mock him for his feelings. But tonight was different. Tonight, the extra alcohol shushed that voice, and Dean found himself surveying the angel as thoroughly as he would an abandoned warehouse that was the subject for a suspected case.

He truly was beautiful in so many ways. His voice. The stubble across his jaw and cheeks. The way his hair parted. The length of his lashes. The shape of is lips. The structure of his shoulders. The adams-apple that moved when he spoke and swallowed. The way he linked his hands together as he sat with his arms relaxed on his lap. Everything. Dean admitted he loved everything he saw. In this moment, he couldn't deny it. He couldn't deny how he was attracted to this man in every way. His physical appearance, yes, but all other aspects about him as well. His loyalty. His heart. His awkwardness. His anger. His gentleness. Everything.

Cas shifted under his gaze.

"Dean-"

"I love you."

Maybe the alcohol had loosened his tongue a bit more than he thought. He hadn't exactly meant to say that so suddenly. He had wanted to. He had wanted to for so long. Had wanted to tell Cas for so long that he loved him. All he had managed though was "I need you." He could never bring himself to say much more. He'd had so many opportunities. So many opening he'd let slip because of that voice of doubt. Because of that encompassing dark. Because of that flickering hope.

But hope was high at the moment. Hope was shining in him, and he could feel its flame more then he could the dark that lingered. That voice had been silenced. He may not have meant to have been so direct, but he wanted to say it.

Cas looked at him. Studying him closely. For several long, heart wrenching moments, he allowed Cas to study him. To stare at him. To make whatever judgement and decisions he was planning. To come to his own conclusions.

Dean could've come up with an explanation. He could've gone through with that long conversation that had remained on the tip of his tongue in those moments when the timing had been right. But he couldn't get past the beating heart that had moved into his throat. Those searching blue eyes submitted him into a nervous silence, stealing all of his words. Stealing his hard edge and making him feel small and exposed.

After several long, agonizing moments of searching, those blue eyes turned their gaze to the floor.

"Dean." That voice, so strong and soft at the same time, finally said. "There are many types of love. There is the love a child feels for its mother and father. There is the kind of love that is between couples. There is the…guaranteed…unfailing and…all forgiving love that can only be shared with God. That love is called agape…"

Dean held his breath. What was this all about? He knew he loved Cas intimately. He knew what his feelings were. He knew he wanted Cas and he desperately wanted the angel to feel the same as he. Why was Cas giving him an English lesson?

"But then," Cas continued. "There is the love that is shared between siblings." Dean flinched when Cas raised his gaze and captured his attention, holding his line of sight hostage in sea of endless blue. "That is what humans have come to call platonic…I know that you have had many drinks tonight that have, as the expression goes, "loosened your tongue." I know that you mean platonically when you tell me this, for that's how I feel for you."

Dean felt that all-encompassing dark snuff out that dangerously flamed light of hope.

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 **A/N**

 **Geminalupus, who I partner with on Tumblr, Is now here on FanFic, and if you liked this, then she has a part two! The name is Platonically Kills You (Part Two) and is Told from Cas' POV. Go check it out if you liked this story! Thanks for reading and remember you can join us on Tumblr for more one-shots/headcannons for all kinds of fandoms. More detailed info is on my profile page. Thanks for any and all support!**


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